


Catch-22

by ZHIREM



Series: A moral spectrum [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:48:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8378023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZHIREM/pseuds/ZHIREM
Summary: The least amount of harm is still filled with pain and despair for someone





	

Rumlow can't believe that he's still sitting here, listening to Captain Oblivious go on and on about how they need to do something special for James's birthday. A party, or a dinner, or a parade, of a fabulous circle jerk, gang bang orgy of fucking doom. 

"Rigghht, I think I'll just let you handle that, you seem to have a lot of ideas Cap, just pick one."

Steve frowned at Brock and said, "You've been his partner for years Rumlow, you must have some ideas about what he'd like".

Brock shrugged and stated, "Sure, me naked tied to his bed, with a nice bow around my neck. That's always something he likes seeing." 

Brock started laughing when Rogers chocked, turned red and started to sputter out denials.

Brock continued to laugh as Clint entered the kitchen and asked, "What are we laughing at?" while moving to sit down across from the Captain. 

Brock smirked at Clint, while giving the Captain a side eyed glance and said, "Cap wants to throw a b-day party for Winter, something classy, something he'll never forget".

"Oh, well just put Stark on it. Tony loves putting together parties", Clint replied while rubbing his eyes and then grabbing Brock's coffee. Clint took a sip of the coffee before making a face and putting it back down.

"Aww, black coffee, no", Clint said with a sigh before grabbing the sugar and creamer, turning Brock's coffee into a concoction of diabetic destruction.

"Tony is busy in California for the next few weeks", Steve stated with an exasperated look at Clint's continued fumbling with Brock's coffee.

Brock, Clint, and Steve all jumped when they heard a chair move off to the left in the living room, "Ahh Stevie. You don't have to do anything for my birthday. I got everything I could possibly want already. My best friend, my best guy, and some new friends that are sure swell gals and fellows", James said as he nudged a chair into the kitchen and then perched himself on it. 

Steve smiled at James and asked, "Are you sure there's nothing you want to do? It's your first birthday here. It was hard when I didn't have anyone with me when I first woke up".

James grinned at Steve and said, "Well, I wouldn't turn down a baseball game, or a trip to Coney island, but nothing big or fancy. Something we used to do, before the war".

Brock could practically see Captain Oblivious fall into some type of happy, remembrance, hotdog for a penny montage. 

"Sure Buck, I'll go look up tickets....oh I'm sorry I didn't mean to call you Bucky", Steve said while blushing and looking at the table.

"It's ok Stevie", James said as he clasped his hand together, "It's just, I'm not Bucky anymore and I'd really like it if you could like the guy I'm now, cause I think we'll still be best friends" James finished with lifted eyebrows and a questioning hitch to his voice.

"Of course James," Steve said with a relieved smile, "I'll go look up games now". 

As Captain Oblivious left the kitchen he smirked at Rumlow and said, "I'll look into finding you some nice red ribbons for that bow".

Once Steve had left the kitchen Rumlow focused on the table, not wanting to see what Winter was going to do. Rumlow hadn't told him he was leaving their suite. Why Stark couldn't just have a wooden table Brock didn't know. These glass metal things always showed fingerprints and smears. Rumlow dragged his finger over the table to see the resultant grease smear. Who knew fingers had that much grease on them. How did people ever stop washing their hands? Rumlow rubbed his index finger against the table again, and again until the streak was wide and uniform, a nice little box. Rumlow carefully started a second box while trying to block out the conversation Winter was having with Barton.

Winter smiled as Brock started to focus on the table, then allowed the expression to fall off his face as he turned to Barton.

"Do you often take things that don't belong to you Hawkeye?" Winter asked, voice monotone as he continued, "Taking Brock's coffee without permission...my permission. Drinking Brock's coffee without my permission, putting your lips on the same place as Brock's lips...without MY permission. If I didn't know you were straight we might have an issue. But you are straight. So we don't have a problem", Winter finished and rearranged his facial expression into a friendly grin.

With James's last facial change Clint could understand how Steve could be fooled. The act was convincing, very convincing. Barton had been watching James for days and even now Clint found himself wanting to like the man who could effortlessly produce such a confidant, friendly smile with matching eyes. It was hard to remember that the man being portrayed likely only existed in the past now. And how sad was that Clint thought, the destruction of identity. Was this what could have happened to him if Loki had kept control of him? If that control had managed to change something fundamental in him. Destruction of identity, death of self. How could Clint tell Steve that Bucky was dead, that he was never going to be coming home. That Bucky had died in the war just like Steve thought.

"Hmmm," Clint responded while continuing to drink Brock's doctored coffee. 

"I just want you to know that I'm here, if you ever need any...assistance...with troublesome...pests. Anything for a Comrade, or teammate, or you know...a buddy." Winter said while standing and grabbing Rumlows finger, twisting it as it ran over the table again, and again. 

Rumlow blinked rapidly as he felt his index finger painfully wrenched. Brock allowed himself to focus on the room again. Clint was still drinking coffee, face a shuttered mask and Winter, oh Winter looked happy. That was never good. 

"Good news babe, the council ok'd you running ops with me. The band is getting back together. You and me babe, the best damn assault team they could ever wish for," Winter informed Brock before kissing the finger he had wrenched. 

Rumlow continued to blink while looking back and forth between Clint and Winter, not understanding the low grade tension in the room. It was always a bit of a inconvienence how much he missed when he focused on being oblivious to what Winter wanted him to ignore.

"Come on Brock, upsy daisy, time to celebrate. I know just what I want to do to you, it's going to be great," Winter said as be dragged Rumlow from the room.

Clint continued to drink the coffee and tried to think about what he should do, what he could do. If James and Rumlow were slated to be the world security councils new attack dogs there wasn't much he could do really. Politicians love their weapons.

There was no doubt Clint would need Nats help if he tried to help Rumlow, but Nat and James had their own history that might cause problems as well. Why was nothing ever easy?


End file.
